Providence
by Ashkash
Summary: Fate is a strange thing. Atlantis in the West AU. JohnElizabeth, RononTeyla
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers –If you count the characters present as spoilers: all characters up to Season 2. It's a Western AU.

Disclaimer - I don't own the Stargate franchise.

**Atlantis in the West AU**

* * *

**1853 – A secluded part of Kansas**

The sun was brutal, dust was blowing everywhere as a result of the strong wind. A black haired boy played with his golden dog not too far from his house made of tree barks. "Don't go too far, Michael!" his mother had warned in her Texan accent, a dirty apron wrapped around her waist, before returning to making lunch. "Make sure your Papa sees you!"

The father of the small cabin was gathering water into buckets from a little stream that ran a short distance behind the dwelling. They considered themselves fortunate to be living in this particular area, by themselves, where the nearest town was ten minutes away by horse and there was fresh water.

As the eleven-year-old boy rounded a large tree, his dog stopped chasing him and began barking as if to warn him of something. Michael skidded to a halt, his feet pushing more dust into the warm air. He fell on his butt, however, after losing his balance. After taking a moment, he shook his head, dust coming off from his head and body, and looked to the dog. The golden-furred retriever began approaching another tree on the other side of the road that ran in front of their house.

"Blitz?" Michael enquired as if the dog would answer him back. Sure enough, Blitz looked back at him and barked in the direction of the tree on the other side of the road. Curious, Michael picked up a branch that had broken off from the tree above him and cautiously began crossing over.

Blitz was on the other side already and seemed to be…pushing something with his nose. Michael couldn't see what it was because whatever it was the bush at the base of the tree hid it from him. He continued on, a little slower this time, until he came up to Blitz and seeing what was there. It was someone laying face down into the dirt.

From his view he could see dark brown hair running down to the person's back. His first thought was that the person was a girl because of the length of the air and the form, a girl probably his age. She was wearing a white overall, like something she would wear to sleep, he wasn't sure though.

He knelt on his right knee and poked the girl with the stick. "Hello?" There was no reply. So, he poked the right side again. "You okay?" When she groaned and moved, Michael flew back and landed on his butt. With wide eyes, he quickly scampered to his feet and ran back to the cabin, ignoring the barks from Blitz.

"Mama! Papa! I found someone!"

The mother came running through the front door. "Michael!"

The boy ran up to his brown haired mother and hugged her hip. "Someone's in the bush across the road."

"What?"

The black bearded father came from the back, running in a panic "Michael! Mary!"

Mary, the mother, held onto Michael with her left arm and pointed with her right to where Blitz was sitting, looking at them. "Jonathan, Michael said someone's over there," she said with a hint of anxiety.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at Blitz. He then went into the cabin, returning to the outside a few short moments after with his rifle. "What did you see, Michael?" he asked as he stood on his wife's left.

The boy turned back to the bush. "I think it's a girl."

Jonathan raised his left eyebrow. "A girl?"

"She wanin' movin' before and she wanin' there yesterday."

Jonathan breathed in and held onto his gun firmly. "All right. Stay here." He aimed his gun at the bush and walked towards it cautiously; he didn't want to take any chances. Soon after he reached Blitz, who was watching him and panting. Jonathan looked down into the bush and saw the body, quickly recognising the form as small child. "Dear, God." He hooked the small line that was connected to the gun over his left shoulder and knelt down to pick up the child into his arms. He then ran back towards the cabin, not taking notice as his keen hearing picked up a horse that was not his own nearby.

The woman and boy watched Jonathan as he rushed past them, including the cabin, and headed for the back. No doubt his destination was the little stream. They followed him and a few short moments reached the stream. They observed as Jonathan sat near the edge, cradling the girl in his arms. He reached into the water with his right hand and splashed some onto the semi conscious, dark browned haired stranger. He patted some on her lips and face, and also splashed along her bare arms. Her face and skin were covered in blisters, most likely as a result of the sun and lack of water.

Michael knelt by his father's left where the head of the girl was and looked down at her. "Is she gonna be all right?" he asked his father, not taking his eyes away from the girl.

"I hope so, son."

Before Jonathan could splash more water onto her, her eyelids fluttered. They were straining to open because of the direct sunlight. Michael saw this and blocked the sun with his head, his face a few centimetres away from hers. Thankfully, she opened her eyes fully and the first thing she saw was Michael; she gave him a small smile and Michael found himself smiling back. He was looking directly into her eyes and noticed that they were a shade of green. He hadn't seen someone with green eyes before.

The girl's eyes moved from Michael to Jonathan and the man smiled at her. "Are you all right?" She was weak and could only move her head slightly, shaking it as an answer.

"Let me take her inside," Mary suggested from behind her husband's right shoulder. "She needs a change of clothing also."

"Yeah," Jonathan responded and passed the weak girl to his wife's waiting arms. She smiled at the girl and headed back for the cabin, with Blitz following them.

Jonathan and Michael watched them go, silently urging the stranger to get better. "How d'you think she got here?" Michael asked.

Jonathan, this time, picked up the sound of the horse he had missed earlier and scanned the surrounding rocky mountains. "I don't know." He then got up. "Come on, let's go inside."

* * *

**Night**

Michael tossed and turned on the hard-wooded floor trying his best to fall asleep. He did it to himself, really. After the stranger had been dressed, in _his_ clothing, and eaten, Pa and Ma had put her on _his_ bed to rest. She had slept for the entire day and hadn't gotten up since. Michael didn't want to sleep in his parents' room so he had suggested that he stay in his room, even though the girl was there. Pa had ordered him to sleep on the floor.

"Ma?"

The strange voice made his eyes snap open.

"Ma?"

The voice began to sound in distress. The girl. Michael removed the covers from his body and knelt on his knees, 'walking' on them to approach the bed. "Hello?" he said, hesitant. In the moonlight shinning through the window above him, he could just her head and it moved to the other side of the bed, away from him. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

She shook her head in reply and Michael sighed. "Do you remember what happened? I… I found you in the bushes today…"

"Where am I?" she interrupted him, rather boldly. It sounded more like a demand.

Michael blinked. "Nearest town is Oaksville, but don't let the name fool you. There's no _oak_ there."

She laughed lightly and he smiled, but then she grew nervous. "They'll come for me." She hadn't taken her eyes off of him though. It was like she was looking at his soul.

Michael's eyebrows furrowed. "Who'll come for you?"

"The bad men."

He swallowed in fear. "That don't sound too good." She shook her head lightly and Michael sighed. "What's your name?"

It was then that she moved towards him until she was close. "Rebecca," she whispered.

He smiled and thrust his right hand forward. "I'm Michael."

She smiled and shook his hand. "My Mommy told me about the angel Michael…"

Before she could continue there was a loud, crashing sound. It made the children jump. They then heard gunshots, shouting and horses.

"Where's the girl!" a man's forceful voice echoed through and Michael looked at the closed door behind him with fear, his breathing became heavier.

Something grabbed his left arm and he yelled out, turning around quickly to see what it was. Rebecca had grabbed his arm and was pulling him towards the bed.

"Michael!" It was his mother, shouting like her life depended on it. "Ru…!" A gunshot stopped her voice and the boy feared the worse. "You sona…" That was his father but his voice too was silenced by another gunshot. Rebecca was hugging Michael's body for dear life and he only just realised that he was too.

"The boy's room!" the same intruder shouted.

Michael acted quickly. He stood up and opened the window. He pulled Rebecca to her feet and pushed himself through the window to the outside. Rebecca climbed through and Michael used all the strength he had to hold onto her. It was useless however because she landed on top him. Acting quickly again, Rebecca kissed him on his left cheek and picked him up, Michael was too stunned from it that he didn't know what to do next.

Rebecca held onto his left hand with her right and began running towards the road. Rounding the cabin, they immediately stopped after seeing three men on horses guarding the front door.

"They're outside!" one of them shouted and Michael, this time, pulled Rebecca's hand.

They turned and headed for the stream. Before they cleared the cabin, a man on a horse surprised them from behind the cabin and stopped in front of them. The man took advantage of their shock and grabbed Rebecca, hauling her onto the horse. Michael grew furious.

"Give her back!" he shouted at the top of his voice as he tried to jump as high as he could to reach.

The man on the horse was laughing at him for the effort. He began riding away with Rebecca. "Burn the house!"

Michael fell to the ground, on the verge of tears. He didn't know where his parents were. That monster on the horse was holding Rebecca and he might be about to die tonight.

"What about the boy?" a man asked from behind Michael.

The man who had the screaming Rebecca was probably the leader. The voice sounded like the rough one from inside the cabin. The apparent leader stared at Michael with cold eyes. His face was covered so Michael could only see his eyes. "You got the count ah ten to get outta my sight, kid." He then pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Rebecca's head. She whimpered and watched Michael with sad eyes. "Or my six little friends will come at you. And they _all_ can run faster than you." Michael was too stunned to move. "One… Two…"

"Michael, you jackass! Run!" Rebecca shouted at him. Where the hell'd she learn language like that? "He'll kill you!" The men around laughed.

The leader continued counting. "Three… Four…"

On 'Four', Michael took off for the stream, running as fast as he could. It may not be far but he would definitely be out of sight in the night. In the distance he could hear the bad men laughing and shouting.

* * *

**Morning**

Michael in his tattered white night clothing sat at the front of his cabin, what used to be the front of his home. He had witnessed the burning during the night and the bad men hadn't left until morning. He had looked on as they had tied Rebecca to the tree across the road where he had found her. They had fed her scraps. He wanted to kill them all but he couldn't move from the stream otherwise he would have surely gotten himself and Rebecca killed.

Michael stared at the burnt wood lying on the dusty ground, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. He didn't find his parents and he feared that they were dead. And, where was Blitz? The bad men had headed Oaksville way but Michael didn't have the strength to follow them. The burnt cabin in front of him was also adding to his reluctance.

Then, from his right, he heard horse and the sound was nearing him. Michael picked up a piece of wood and got off the ground. He held onto the weapon, waiting eagerly for the appearance with murderous eyes. From behind a large rock, a brown horse appeared, the rider dressed like a lawman. He couldn't see any badge though. The stranger immediately stopped and got off the horse, quickly making his way to Michael afterward.

"Kid? What happened? You all right?" the man asked in one breath.

Michael looked up at him. He looked friendly and concerned. "Th-They came, took Rebecca and burn my home. I don't know where my parents are. I… I think they're dead."

The stranger sighed and knelt until he was at eyelevel to Michael. He seemed no older than his father, Jonathan. "Who?"

Tears fell down Michael's cheeks but his face was serious. "I don't… The bad men."

The light brown bearded man nodded and held onto Michael's shoulders. "I'm gonna take you into town where a doctor could take a look at you. All right? Then you could talk to the sheriff."

Michael nodded sadly as the white stranger guided him towards his brown horse. The man picked him up and placed him on the saddle. He then patted the horse. "This is Jumper."

Michael sniffed and he was confused. "Why'd you name your horse Jumper?"

The man smirked and climbed onto the horse, sitting behind Michael. "It just came to me one day."

Michael laughed in spite of his foul mood. "It's a good name." He patted the horse and it neighed.

Jumper and his riders then headed forward, in the direction of Oaksville.

* * *

**1878 - Twenty Five Years Later**

Two strangers to the town of Clary entered on horseback. They were dressed like lawmen but they didn't carry any badge. Usually when the townsfolk of any town didn't recognise riders, they stopped what they were doing and looked on. After all, the strangers could be thieves so they were being cautious. Of course, strange riders didn't like people staring at them.

The strangers rode towards the sheriff's office and dismounted. People were amazed at the height and look of one of the strangers. His brown coat hung well past his knees and his hair was… braided? He looked like someone you shouldn't cross. The other stranger looked more average, though the light brown cowboy hat hid his face from everyone. The tall stranger pulled white man from on top of his brown horse and flung it over his right shoulder like a slab of meat.

They walked towards the sheriff's office where the tall man dumped the unconscious person unceremoniously in front of the door. Sheriff Mackenzie came out and observed the… mess.

"Come on, Sheriff. My throat's dry," the average stranger said.

Mackenzie smirked and knelt next to the lying body. "It would have been better if he was conscious."

"He resisted," the tall man said with a smirk.

The Sheriff laughed. "Very well." He then turned to the brown haired man with a badge. "Deputy, the reward."

A few minutes after, the strangers entered the Saloon and scanned the room. Typical Saloon: crowded round tables, Roulette, drunken people, and not forgetting the… women who get paid to pleasure. The average looking man with a long brown coat completing his attire walked towards the bar first before the tall one. A pair of green eyes watched the average man closely on his way.

"Two Bourbons. Straight up," the average looking man ordered and the bartender nodded.

"Next time you're on your own, Sheppard." the tall man said with a smirk to the average looking one as they leant their backs against the bar and surveyed the room.

"He surprised me," 'Sheppard' defended.

"You're losing your touch."

"Two Bourbons. Straight up," the bartender informed from behind them. They both turned and took their drinks.

"All I need is a good night's sleep," Sheppard continued and they clunk their glasses before drinking down the contents. He then looked at his companion on his right. "Ronon?"

'Ronon' looked at his glass and smirked. He then placed it back on the table behind him. "We'll have the bottle," he told the bartender.

The front doors opened and three mean looking men entered the Saloon. Ronon stared at them with a smirk as they approached the bar, while Sheppard drank more Bourbon.

"I see we have some strangers in our town," one of them said, probably the leader of the little gang of 'merry' men.

"What you having, Bob?" the bartender asked.

"Whisky. We're having whisky," 'Bob' answered.

"Ooh, very manly," Sheppard muttered and rolled his eyes. Ronon was blocking him from the three men. The tall man chuckled in reply to Sheppard's comment.

"Woooowhe! Look what we got here boys!"

That irritating voice made Sheppard turn around and Ronon look to his left. One of the three men was standing near a table where a single person sat at. The person had their crossed feet on the table as he/she rocked on the chair. He/She was dressed like a cowboy and the hat seemed to look larger on their head.

"Angel Eyes," the bartender muttered behind Sheppard and Ronon.

Sheppard's eyebrows shot up when the person raised their head to look at him. It was a woman; a stunning woman in cowboy clothes. The strange thing was she was smiling faintly at him and Sheppard got hot under the collar. Angel Eyes, indeed.

"You know her?" Ronon asked after looking the woman over.

"I wish I did," Sheppard replied in a confused face, making Ronon chuckle.

The man who had the irritated voice stood on the woman's left. "I believe I haven't seen you here before, darlin'."

The stunning woman was still looking at Sheppard. "I'm just passing through," she said.

Something was not all obvious about this woman. Ronon and Sheppard were waiting for something to happen.

"Are you a new import?" The irritable one continued. "Are they dressing them like us now?" He seemed drunk already.

The 'cowgirl' slowly turned her head and looked up at the man on her left. She smiled slightly and Sheppard, for some reason, felt like she was dangerous. Ronon already knew that she _was_, just by watching her.

"I'll give you what you want," she began, "if you could roll my spurs. With both your hands."

Well that was… strange. The man laughed and looked to his friends by the bar. The place had gotten quiet and the two smirked. The drunken reached forward for the spurs on the woman's boots. But, he never got there because she, in a quick motion, hooked his arms with her legs. He couldn't move. Again, quickly, she hit him on the head with her right knee. The man fell back onto a table, unconscious.

Sheppard's eyebrows went higher. The remaining two, including 'Bob' began heading for the 'cowgirl' but they too never got there. Ronon had grabbed them and knocked them out, breaking a few tables in the process. He paid the bartender afterwards for the Bourbon bottle and the damages. During this, Sheppard had casually walked towards this mysterious stranger.

"Care for a drink?" he offered, holding the bottle in his left hand.

She placed her feet on the ground and slid the glass the front of an empty chair that he was standing behind. He took it as an invitation and pulled the chair out, pouring the Bourbon the whole time. Sheppard then sat down.

"Can my companion sit with us?"

She didn't take her eyes off of him, like before. He now noticed that she had green eyes… Been a while. "If he wants to."

Sheppard turned his head towards the bar and whistled. "Blitz, here boy."

"For the last time, I'm _not_ your dog!" Ronon grumbled before sitting down.

Sheppard laughed and turned back to his newfound friend. "So, can I ask you your name or do I have to risk it and roll your spurs?"

She smirked. "Who's askin'?"

He smirked and tipped his hat. "Jonathan Sheppard, and I must say that was quite the move." Jonathan peered over the table at the man lying unconscious. He then looked around. "No clean up crew?"

Ronon introduced himself next, getting the attention of Sheppard again. "Ronon Dex."

"Well, Mister Dex - " she smirked. " - you certainly like to throw your size around."

"He likes a good brawl," Sheppard said, nodding and smirking.

"And you are?" Ronon demanded in his low baritone.

She looked at him and then at Sheppard again before replying, "Weir. And, you have to earn my first name." She had directed the last statement at Sheppard, and he was confused.

Ronon drank a shot and smirked. He then poured some Bourbon into all three glasses. He planted the bottle back on the table and held up his glass. Weir and Sheppard followed.

"To friendship?" Sheppard ventured. Ronon, however, was just smirking because he _knew _Sheppard.

Weir nodded and smiled at Sheppard. His smile faltered for a just a bit when he got a sense of familiarity. He shook it off and joined in clinking the glasses.

"To newfound friends," Weir said while looking at Sheppard. She then drank everything in one go.

Sheppard and Weir, the newfound friends, didn't know _how_ connected they were with each other.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed. I've been watching _Unforgiven, A Fistful of Dollars and __The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly_. Go figure. LOL! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Note**: The Seli character in this chapter is pronounced Sel-i. Like the Ori.

* * *

**1878**

As John poured more Bourbon into the glasses, he glanced at the woman sitting on his left. Her rugged attire just made her more appealing. The woman, Weir, had aroused his suspicion since he had laid eyes on her. She seemed familiar to him, and he just couldn't place where he had seen it before.

"So…" he droned. "what brings you to the town of Clary?"

Weir took her glass in her right hand and sipped from it. She smirked at Sheppard. "Can't a girl have a decent Bourbon without any questions?"

"She can," Ronon said, the left corner of his lips curling upwards just slightly in a sly smirk. "But the questions come when the girl is a bounty hunter."

She smiled and held up her glass, as if to congratulate him on his gut feeling.

John glared at the man across the table from him. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" For once he would like to go with his own approach when Ronon was around.

Ronon ignored Sheppard. "Who are you hunin'?"

Weir got serious and looked at John before returning her attention to Ronon. "I'm searching for a friend."

"This friend got a name?" John asked, taking a sip from his glass afterwards. She turned back to John and he saw her hesitation. "Maybe we can help," he offered.

She took a moment, studying his face and Ronon's for any hidden motives. Heck, Ronon and him were doing the same thing. "Rodney," she finally answered. "Rodney McKay."

"What happened to him?" Dex asked.

"He's disappeared. I visit him every two months in Ferry, but he wasn't there. I asked around and the people said they hadn't seen him in over a month."

"Kidnapped?" Sheppard theorized.

"It's possible," Weir replied with a sigh.

"W--" John didn't get to finish because Ronon getting up from his seat distracted him.

The big man was heading towards the entrance and John followed him with his eyes. He spotted a familiar dark-skinned woman standing by the doors as she watched Ronon approaching her. The long dark brown coat hid her warrior-like body and the familiar large sheriff-like hat helped to hide her face. The hat had belonged to Ronon.

What was Teyla doing all the way here?

"Someone you know?" Weir asked Sheppard.

John watched Ronon escort their friend to the outside. "Someone Ronon knows a lot more than me," he replied.

* * *

**Ten Years Ago**

Fifteen-year-old Teyla Emmagan was set. She held the sticks in her hands firmly while waiting patiently for the first attack from her foe. Her foe was Seli, one of her very skilled trainers that had fortunately survived raids from the enemy. They were under the hot sun in the middle of their tribe, and their audience was comprised of many people from the Athosian tribe. Being under the sun and in the heat was one of the challenges. She could sense the attack coming -- she could _feel_ it.

"Water!" a woman cried from somewhere, the alarm in the voice broke Teyla's concentration. "We need water!" Still holding her formation, Teyla turned her head to the right and immediately spotted an unfamiliar horse heading towards the camp. However, it wasn't the horse that totally caught her attention, it was the very weak rider, who looked as if he was about to fall off. It was a boy, probably about her age. Teyla and Seli rushed to the scene.

Cita -- the woman who had cried for the water -- ran up to the horse and climbed it in a swift elegant motion. She wrapped her left arm around the boy to hold him securely and helped steer the horse to the nearest hut. Seli, husband of Cita, took the boy from his wife's arms and carried him into their hut to avoid the sun. Seli placed the boy on the makeshift bed and Teyla watched over him as Seli and Cita got to work.

The young Keela brought the water in a large mug and Cita took it from her. The boy had burns, dirt and sweat all over his body. The sun would account for the burns, but there were also cuts and bruises, as if he had barely survived some vicious attack. It was unbelievable that he survived the sun as well.

Cita wetted the light brown skin of the boy to cool the body while Teyla, having already taken some water into a cup, held up his head with her right arm. With the cup in her left, she gently placed the tip to his mouth. She saw him sense the touch and weakly sipped, licking his blistered lips and then drinking more.

"You are safe now," Teyla soothingly said. "Rest. You're going to be fine."

Pained eyes looked up at her through slits. She could've sworn that she saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it seemed to travel to his eyes for they were luminous. Teyla found herself passing the fingers of her right hand through brown and thick unruly hair. It was then that his features softened.

He closed his eyes.

She smiled.

* * *

Under the clear blue sky and hot sun, Teyla turned around to face Ronon, having to look up at the towering man. "We need your help," she said, getting straight to the point. With a look, Ronon encouraged her to elaborate. "We've been attacked." He visibly tensed. No wonder she journeyed the two-day distance. "They swept across the land like a disease. They took some of us."

"How many dead?" Ronon finally spoke. He wanted to kill now.

She grew quiet and lowered her head. The silence from her only made Ronon more enraged. "Too many," she said softly.

"You've been tracking me for two days. You could've used that time to find help closer to you. Time was wasted. They're probably dead by now."

Ronon knew it sounded harsh, and even though he would help Teyla Emmagan and her people in a heartbeat, she should've searched somewhere closer. Many towns she would have journeyed through to get to him. Caldwell's was one of them.

Teyla glared at him. "I have!" she shouted, the frustration and severity of her situation getting to her. Ronon merely watched Teyla, not reacting to her outburst. She returned the stare for a moment, challenging him to say something more. However, her features quickly softened. Teyla then closed the small gap between them until she was looking straight up into his eyes. "_I_ need your help," she spoke gently, giving her real reason for tracking Ronon for two days across the hot lands.

Too many times had they been in this exact position, both never moving forward towards each other; the result of something which had grown between them ever since that day when they first laid eyes on each other.

"Get on your horse," Ronon said, breaking the tense atmosphere. She continued watching him for a moment more, and then she nodded and left him. He followed her movements with his eyes until she climbed onto her light brown horse. Ronon then headed back into the saloon.

When John saw Ronon re-enter the saloon, he immediately got up and approached him by the entrance doors. "Something up?"

"Teyla's people were attacked," Ronon informed him, and John tensed, ready to go to war.

"Survivors?"

"Not many. She asked for my help."

"So, you're goin' then?" Ronon nodded. He then used his head to indicate Weir far behind Sheppard. John didn't turn back though, but he did lick his lips in slight hesitation. Ronon smirked. "I'm gonna help her," Sheppard said.

Dex was still smirking. "That all?"

John narrowed his eyes and changed the subject. "Do you want my help?"

"It's up to you. You know she'll appreciate it."

Sheppard nodded. "Something's up with this woman. I'm not sure but --"

"Last time you thought someum' was up with a woman you were left in the desert with no clothes on."

John glared at Ronon. "I thought we agreed not to mention that again." He unconsciously rubbed on his arms, where there were bite marks from many an insect, and a snake. It was fortunate that Ronon had found him. He had passed out by then. But, the ones on his butt shouldn't be mentioned anywhere or at _any_ time.

Ronon interrupted John's thoughts when he extended his right arm. Sheppard's smacked into Ronon's as they shook like strong warriors. "Good fortune, Sheppard," Dex said seriously. He then smirked. "I don't want to see your butt again."

John smiled. "Go get 'em. Leave no stone unturned."

Ronon nodded and gently punched John in his chest, making Sheppard rock on his heels. Dex then exited the saloon, and John returned to his chair. He smirked at Weir and gulped his drink down.

"Something wrong?" she asked him.

John sighed. "Just certain people being extreme bullies." He never liked talking about it. "Innocent people caught in a war between gangs."

She nodded in understanding, and looked away. "I know the feeling," she said to herself in a grim tone.

However, Sheppard didn't seem to pick up on it. He poured himself more Bourbon. "So, McKay… I could help you find him." She arched a suspicious eyebrow at him. "I know some people. Ferry, you say?"

"Yes."

"Unfortunately, I know a Kavanagh. Ran into him in Kisa. Someone had placed a bounty on his head for fun."

Weir frowned. "I've heard about him in Ferry. When I asked around they said Kavanagh had been having another argument with Rodney about their work, two hours before McKay disappeared. I guess I missed him when I left town."

John smirked. "Maybe he's in."

Weir returned the smirk. She held up her glass and Sheppard clinked his with hers. They then dra

They drank the contents of their glasses in one gulp, slamming them on table afterwards. It meant that she accepted his offer to help.

To Ferry.

* * *

**A/N**: I wrote thisa while ago. I'm sorry to say that I'm not sure when I'll be able to update this. My Stargate muse has faded away, and it damn well shows with the crap I'm coming up with. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)


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